


the transcendent heaviness of being

by Anonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Come Inflation, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Unconventional Bondage, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Crowley fucks Aziraphale so full of come that he can't move. That's it, that was the prompt and the fic I wrote for it.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 101
Collections: Good Omens Kink Meme Anonymous





	the transcendent heaviness of being

Aziraphale was decently sure that Crowley had cheated and done something to make his come heavier, and entirely sure that he didn't mind. He was so _full_ , his stomach rounded and stretched like it had never been before. His divinity marks stood out, bold and nearly glowing in the afternoon sun. When Crowley ran a reverent hand over them he shivered, and then moaned, because he was so well-pinned that he couldn't really manage even that much movement.  
  
"You doing okay there, angel?" Crowley asked. There was a sardonic edge to his voice that had Aziraphale trying to shiver again.  
  
"Yes. More than," Aziraphale said, his voice rough. They'd been at this for hours now.  
  
"You really are, aren't you? Like you were made for this, just this. Made to take my cock and hold my seed in you."  
  
Aziraphale was saved from having to respond by Crowley moving again, hips snapping into him, into the hole he'd already fucked oversensitive and raw. Aziraphale threw back his head and let himself moan and carry on, little desperate noises punched out of him as Crowley fucked into him.  
  
Crowley came, making him impossibly fuller with that impossibly heavy come. Aziraphale groaned, too spent to come again but not so far gone as to not enjoy the sensation.  
  
After a few moments, Crowley pulled out.  
  
"What are you-" Aziraphale asked, and then groaned as he felt something large and metallic- and cold!- being pressed inside him.  
  
"Just taking a little break," Crowley said with a wink. "Saving my place for later."  
  
"But-" Aziraphale cut himself off as Crowley scraped his teeth, fangs bared, along the tight skin of his bulging stomach,  
  
"If you don't like it, you can leave," Crowley told him as he got up. "I'll be back."  
  
Aziraphale struggled futilely to get up for a time, but his stomach was now too big and too heavy for him to even sit up. He couldn't move, couldn't leave. He was stuck, immobilized by the come Crowley had fucked into him. There was no escape. He could only wait for Crowley to return.  
  
That wasn't, strictly speaking, true. He could end it at any time: say their word, drop the little box he held in his hand that would make the most dreadfully cacophony when he stopped squeezing it, even miracle himself free. But he didn't want to. He liked the fantasy of it, being trapped and rendered helpless by his own desires.  
  
When Crowley returned less than an hour later, he straddled Aziraphale's chest, gripped him tightly by the hair, and fucked his face. Aziraphale was more than happy to let him, and to swallow every last thick, heavy drop of it.


End file.
